


Holy Ground

by buckyownsmylife



Category: Defending Jacob (TV 2020)
Genre: Accidents, Amnesia, F/M, Hospitals, Pregnancy, Smut, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:29:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28854345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckyownsmylife/pseuds/buckyownsmylife
Summary: The one where Andy seems to have lost everything, but he’s not ready to give up.A terrible car accident ruins Andy Barber’s idea of a perfect life. But if the love’s still there, why wouldn’t he retrace the steps that led him to his happy ending? After all, the best love stories were made to be written more than just once.
Relationships: Andy Barber/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

Andy’s P.O.V.

The never-ending beeping of the machine had become a constant in my life. It was both a melody and a curse, a relief and the worst of tortures, it truly depended on my mood for the day. Sadly, for the last few weeks, it was hard to remember that this meant a good thing, it meant she was alive, there was still hope for us. 

Hope was dying quicker than the woman on the bed, who I watched with unwavering attention, and that only meant it was getting harder and harder to remember that she was still even there. 

A body isn’t a life, that had never been as obvious to me as it was right then, and although her hand was safely wrapped by mine, she never seemed more distant than in that moment. So close, yet so out-of-reach. Still alive, but seemingly just… not there.

Sighing, I released her hand only to run both of mine over my face, needing a moment to close my eyes and imagine I was somewhere else, anywhere else other than this stupid fucking hospital, the only place I ever went to since the accident.

But then, as it happened every time I tried to sleep, flashes of what I imagined had happened to her startled me into opening my eyes again, and sitting up on the chair that was starting to mold into the shape of my body. I really needed her to wake up. Soon.

A surge of anger rushed through me - not the first one I’d felt since this entire situation had happened, and suddenly I was up from the chair, leaning over her, cradling her unresponsive face in my hands.

“Wake up,” I urged, trying to shake her as softly as possible, but still determined to get a response from her. “Wake up, dammit.” 

Unsurprisingly, it was in vain. There was no response, no single movement, no sign from the heavens that the woman I loved was even there at all.

Defeated, I slumped back on the chair and pondered over the same damn details when suddenly, something happened. The beeping had changed. It was quicker now, mirroring my own heartbeat inside my chest.

“Nurse!” I shouted, desperate for someone, anyone to tell me that this was good news, but the second two people entered the room in blue scrubs, I was being thrown out. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but we need you to go wait in the lobby. Someone will come get you once things are stable again.”

Stable. Again.

That’s not what I wanted. No, it was not. Because nothing about my life with Y/N had ever been just “stable”. That word could simply not encompass everything she was, everything she meant, everything we had lived together. Not the way she woke me up with the smell of pancakes in the morning, only to be singing the softest of melodies when I got to the kitchen to watch her sway and cook at the same time. Not the way she listened attentively to everything I ever got to say, especially when I was frustrated and it took me some time to make any sense at all. Not the way she held me in her arms when the night came and brought horrors from the past to my mind, raising nightmares that seemed even worse while I was awake.

I wanted her back, and not the beeping of the machine that kept her there, but not really alive. That wasn’t alive. That was merely existing, and that’s how I felt that I was doing, too. But how does one find the motivation to even try when the love of your life is just… not there?

I was quickly becoming overwhelmed by my own feelings, I could recognize that. Finally deciding to take a seat in the waiting area, I covered my face again as I struggled to think through the fog of emotions clouding my brain. What the hell was happening back in her room? Could it be…

No. I could not afford to think that. I could not afford to lose her. Looking up to the ceiling in the hopes to control my desperate desire to cry, I prayed to whoever was listening that they gave me my girl back. I needed her. God, how I needed her.

“Mr. Barber?” I almost got whiplash from how quickly I turned to meet the doctor, trying to determine if he was coming to share bad or good news by the expression on his face. Unfortunately, the dominion of emotions came with the profession - I expected that, mostly because I used to have the same skill, developed in the exercise of mine.

The days where legal routines ruled my week seemed like a lifetime away.

“We have some news for you.” I nodded, not trusting my own voice as I got up from the chair to follow the doctor closer to the room where she rested, hopefully still alive. “At last, there was some response to the treatment we had been administering…” I ended up blocking whatever medical terms he used while explaining what had happened as I tried to peek through the curtains into the room, check if she was still there, still unresponsive but there. “…She’s waiting for you.”

That startled me, making me meet the doctor’s eyes again.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

The man had a good heart, that much was obvious, because instead of impatient, he just smiled and repeated, “She’s awake now. We still haven’t been able to figure out the damage that the impact has done on her cognitive functions, but she’s alive and awake, and when we said you had been waiting, she asked to see you.”

I nodded, immediately turning my back to the doctor without any further comments and reaching out for the door, eager to see her again. I knew I’d only believe that she was awake when I saw it with my own two eyes.

Her gaze fell on mine when I pushed the door open, my mouth falling open and tears erupting from the utter relief that I felt. It was really true. She was okay. We’d be okay.

I threw myself on her before even thinking twice about it. Instinctively, I knew how to avoid the wires and bruises she still had, after having spent so long just looking at her, memorizing every inch of her face while she couldn’t move.

When her arms closed around me, it was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. And then I was crying. Just like she always did the few times I’d done this before ever since we got together, she just held me, hands softly running circles on my back as I let go of all the pain and fear I’d been accumulating these last few months without her.

She didn’t even say anything, just patiently waited as I slowly calmed down, sniffling like a little kid and taking her natural perfume in now that I could bury my face in the crook of her neck. I knew that my unkept beard tickled her, but despite a few chuckles, she never complained.

I was thankful for that. Because I truly needed this. I needed to feel close to her again, in this physical sense, as long as it was the only one I could have until she was able to leave this hospital. I hoped to God that now that she’d woken up, it wouldn’t be too long before I could get her back home.

“How are you feeling, my love?” I watched her eyes momentarily widen, seemingly in surprise, when I pulled away to watch her expression, knuckles grazing softly over her cheekbones. And then she looked confused, maybe even guilty, that deep frown appearing between her eyebrows as she almost pouted at me.

“I’m okay, I swear. I wish you wouldn’t have spent this long waiting for me here.” The sentence was so puzzling it froze me on the spot. What did she mean, I shouldn’t have waited for her to wake up? I should have simply gone home and walked around like nothing was wrong, while she was here alone, possibly dying?

“Why is that?” I finally managed to get out, reaching out to hold one of her tiny, freezing hands between mine, and although she once again looked up in shock at me, she seemed somewhat grateful, the goosebumps along her arms showing just how cold she really was.

“I mean… You just didn’t have to, Andy. I know you’re a nice guy, I wouldn’t have agreed to go on that date with you if I didn’t think so, but I think this is too much, even for you. You barely know me. There was no reason to feel so obligated to keep me company, you know?” And just when I was sure that the pain in my chest signaled a heart attack, she looked down at our joined hands, squeezed mine and said, “Although I must admit, I’m kinda glad you did. I’ve been dreaming about our second date ever since you brought me back to my apartment and gave me that kiss.”

The weight of my wedding ring suddenly became all I could focus on, even if she didn’t even seem to realize the metal was there, warming her cold skin. But it was the burning of the matching jewelry safely tucked inside my pocket since the night of the accident that really made me realize that car crash might have taken more from me than I ever expected. 


	2. Chapter 2

Andy’s P.O.V.

“So she has no recollection of anything after a specific point in time?” My chest felt heavy, and it was getting exponentially harder to breathe each time I tried to fill my lungs with air. The doctor sitting in front of me looked concerned, like he could see the panic attack slowly forming inside of me, but to be fair, that preoccupation could just be about my wife’s state.

“Apparently, not. We’re sorry we didn’t figure it out sooner, but she hadn’t given us any reason to believe there was something wrong with her memory. She recognized your name, and she seemed eager to see you.” I nodded at his words but didn’t say anything, still finding it hard to swallow, due to a lump that had settled on my throat. “Have you been able to determine where her memory is stuck?”

I thought back about the brief conversation we’d shared before I ran off to find the man sitting in front of me, realizing I actually did have the answer to that question. “Our first date, apparently. She remembers that, but not our second.”

Dr. Whitewall nodded, patiently taking in what I had to share. “And how long did it take for you to go out on your second date?” The question wasn’t unexpected, I had prepared myself for having to answer, but it still made my cheeks flush pink.

“48 hours,” I answered, averting my eyes. It was the truth. I’d asked her out on a second date the very next day and couldn’t wait for more than another so I could see her again. But instead of mocking, Dr. Whitewalls’ expression was actually one of understanding.

“When you know, you know.” My gaze fell on the hand with which he held a pen, seeing that he too wore a wedding ring. He must understand it, then. He must have someone waiting for him back home, who he loved almost as much as I loved her. It must be easy for him to imagine what I’m going through.

“Listen, I know this isn’t going to be easy, but have a little faith. It’s actually quite common for patients to wake up from comas with some sort of gaps in their memory. It usually comes back gradually, but we need to do all we can so that process is accelerated and easy for her. We’ll need to keep her here, under a specific department, so we can monitor and help with her recovery. And I must ask you to do your very best to ease her into this, so don’t scare her with the knowledge that she has forgotten the better part of the last two years, alright?”

It took me some time to realize what he was saying and then I had to confirm it. “You want me to pretend we’re still about to have our second date.” As one of those bobble-heads, he just kept nodding, the picture of perfected patience under stressful and emotional situations. I felt angry, for whatever reason. It definitely wasn’t his fault, but I needed someone to blame so badly. I obviously couldn’t blame her. There was no way to shout at the man who ran that red light, he got what he deserved already. I wanted so badly to just throw some stuff, scream at someone, let this terrible feeling out of my body somehow.

But as quickly as it came, it was gone, leaving me only with the already familiar and tiring feeling of defeat. “Okay,” I said. “I can do that.” And I really believed that I could. 

But it wasn’t easy staring at the face of the woman I loved and seeing that she didn’t recognize me to be the man she helped me become. It wasn’t easy trying to remind myself that most of the stuff we went through together, the stuff that revealed everything I knew about her to me, still hadn’t happened to her. She had no recollection of them whatsoever, and so I had to pretend I didn’t know them too. 

It was especially hard having to take off the wedding ring that had become a permanent part of me so long ago, keep it hidden next to the one I hoped I’d be able to give back to her one day, soon.

I didn’t know if it would happen. I didn’t know what would happen. She could fall in love with someone else entirely. Even if she didn’t, it was possible that she simply didn’t fall for me again. And then, what would I do?

Back at her room again, while she made idle chit chat about how nice the nurses had been to her, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her figure, admiring her vivacity, relishing in the fact that she was awake again. Even if it wasn’t exactly what I had wished for while she was unresponsive, it was definitely better than how she used to be.

I took this opportunity to memorize every inch of her again, every little quirk and habit that I’d forgotten in the space of time I didn’t get to see her move or hear her speak. And then my gaze fell on the necklace hanging between her breasts. I hadn’t seen it in a while, guess the nurses had given it back to her, along with the clothes I had brought. 

She didn’t fiddle with it anymore. Ever since the first time I put it on her - she’d never taken it off, and I’d grown used to seeing her play with the pendant while she spoke. She did it absentmindedly, and I found it endlessly endearing, especially since she once confessed she had started doing it when she thought about me.

Guess there wasn’t a lot to think about anymore.

I couldn’t find a reasonable explanation to justify spending the night at the hospital anymore, so I had to go home prepare myself for a night of sleeping in our bed, without her. It just didn’t feel the same. And as I sat there wondering if it was too hard or too soft, too warm or too cold, I broke down crying and acknowledged that what was really missing to make it feel like home again, was simply her.


	3. Chapter 3

“How do I look?” I was at a loss for words as I watched her model her dress for me, a grin covering my face for the first time in what felt like years. She looked beautiful - she always did - but seeing her ready to go out, witness her excitement at leaving the hospital for the first time since she woke up, and being the one to take her out just made everything seem more special tonight.

“Perfect.” She smiled brightly at this, accepting the arm I was offering as I guided us through the halls I’d come to know all too well. I couldn’t believe after two weeks of constantly checking in with the doctors and trying not to look like an obsessive stalker, I’d finally been allowed to take her out on a date - our second second date. After some insistence - I was nothing if not great with arguments, after all - Dr. Whitewalls agreed that it would be good for her to step away from these endless white walls and witness a night out on the town, especially with me. He was convinced since the last major life event she remembered was connected to me, spending time together would help her remember everything quicker.

Stuff had started to reappear, that much I’d come to know from Whitewalls’ updates and our little chats whenever I granted myself the luxury of visiting her designated room in the hospital. Little things, like her teaching job, that she’d started right after our marriage, and the fact that Mickey, the cat she used to have when she was still living alone, had passed away.

The fact that his death had been the catalyst for her agreeing to move in with me apparently kept resisting the process of recovery.

I was brought out of my own thoughts by the feeling of her nails scratching my forearm, just like she always did when she wanted to catch my attention. It elicited shivers down my spine, bringing back memories of nights shared under covers, when I used to feel those nails running down my back, leaving marks I’d cherish in the morning. There was nothing I loved more than going to work, knowing I had a reminder of the great night I’d had on my own body.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week,” she confessed when I turned to the side to meet her eyes, and the innocence in her statement had me smiling down at her again. Truth was, so had I. How could I not? She monopolized all of my thoughts and plans. I counted down the hours before I could see her again, and getting to spend the evening with her outside of that hospital was the highlight of my week.

“So have I.” I took her to the same restaurant we had our second date in, knowing she wouldn’t recognize it but at least getting excited about seeing her reactions to the food and decor again. I was trying to find little things to get me through this entire experience, and if the hardships of having to hold back from spilling something I knew about her could be compensated by anything, it was by the way her eyes lit up when she took in the little bistro. 

“It’s so cute!” She whispered as I helped her take off her jacket, my eyes never leaving her for even a second. It was weird to acknowledge just how powerful her hold over my heart was, now that she didn’t seem to know. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The night was spent with delicious food and her even more delicious little giggles. Remembering when I first learned that two glasses of wine left her a bit tipsy, but three made her absolutely hammered.

As tiring as it was to deal with this reality, I was forced to acknowledge that I’d recreate each moment, I’d do anything for her. And it wouldn’t be a nuisance. No time spent with her could ever be, although the time apart was getting increasingly harder to deal with.

So I savored each moment, each minute of this recreation of our second date. It wasn’t common that a man would have the opportunity to make their woman fall in love with them again, and I’d be a fool not to cherish this new take, sad as it was.

I just hadn’t anticipated how arduous it would be to contain my physical reactions to her. My body ached to reach out and run my fingertips over her skin, feel her warmth underneath my digits. I’d forgotten how much of a tease she could be without even realizing - I was used to her knowing the power she had over me.

This was sweet, though - this almost unfamiliar innocence behind her shy glances and contained movements. It awakened a fire inside of me I didn’t allow myself to feel back when we were getting to know each other, her angelic features scaring me into thinking I would taint her.

Now I wondered if I did, even if she never seemed to mind. I’d witnessed her grow more and more familiar with her own body, and I liked to think that I helped her learn how to explore it. But the woman she became, as confident as she was on her own allure, didn’t have any kind of darkness that I feared I’d force into her.

And still, it was nice to witness her like this again, if only for the certainty that it would all work out in the end - at least I hoped so. And now that she was okay, I felt it was alright to let my thoughts wander over to some of the memories her body awakened in me.

She was just so fucking tempting. It wasn’t any particular thing she did, it was just in the way she was. And she was the only one who could make me feel this way. Which was why it hurt to think that I might lose her, in one way or another.

I was a little more than a friend, maybe less, in her mind. All the while, she meant everything to me. 

I didn’t want the night to end, didn’t want to have to be without her again. But just as I accompanied her back to the hospital, she stopped outside the door and looked up at me with those bright eyes, making me forget how to breathe.

“Don’t you want to kiss me?” The shiver that ran through my spine had nothing to do with the cold of the evening, and I like to think hers didn’t, either. And as I watched her wave and reenter the building I’d grown to despise, I wanted her to tell her that I was already hers. She owned my heart, and I would never ask for it back.


	4. Chapter 4

A month had passed and the dates continued. I’d take her to a small restaurant, we’d share wine and stories I already knew all about, before I had to take her back to the hospital and sleep by myself yet again.

She was making progress, they’d tell me. She was starting to remember things about her past, what happened to her parents, knowledge she had gained whilst in college. Even the name of some of her favorite students. 

Nothing about me. Well, nothing of substance, anyway. Nothing that would make her realize we’ve been through all of this before, all of the first dates, first touches and kisses… So we kept on reliving it, and I kept hoping it would help her remember.

A month had passed and the doctors finally decided she could go home with me. We introduced her to the idea through a nice nurse that had become sort of a friend to her ever since she woke up. 

From what I heard, she asked my wife if she’d like to spend the night with me after one of those dates we kept having, and after a fit of giggles, she admitted that she did. And so that night, when I picked her up, I knew there was the possibility that I might not be sleeping alone tonight.

I couldn’t really focus on that thought. I didn’t want to create expectations only to be left feeling empty and alone when I got back to that large, cold bed. And so I focused on her, on how happy she seemed to be, spending time with me.

I took her dancing that night, and it’d been so long since I’d seen her look so ecstatic. She’d always loved to dance, and I loved any excuse to have her body tightly pressed against mine. But even when I had to step away to get us drinks, she kept her body slowly moving to the beat of the song, smiling with her whole face when her eyes met mine.

I never wanted her to stop dancing. But when she looked up at me from under her eyelashes, gaze so uncharacteristically shy, I couldn’t stop myself from licking my lips at her quiet invite.

“Do you want to take me home?” She couldn’t understand the impact those words had on me. Home. She wanted me to take her home. We couldn’t arrive there fast enough. I watched with intense gaze as she stepped foot in the house we’d decorated together, taking notice of the way her eyes looked at the details, the paintings she had chosen, the colors of the wall we had painted together. 

I’d fucked her right on the floor of this living room more times that I could count.

“Do you like it?” I asked, and she nodded somewhat timidly, like she didn’t think she fit there somehow. The thought concerned me almost as much as it infuriated me. “Do you want a glass of wine?”

When she shook her head, I smiled patiently at her, waiting for her smaller frame to approach me so I could cradle her face between my hands. “Do you want to go upstairs?” This time she nodded, even though my question was barely over a whisper. We were close enough for her to understand it.

I kissed her then, eager to touch her, to taste her lips and caress her body. I absentmindedly thanked myself for the fit of rage that had me breaking all of the picture frames inside the house weeks ago. That moment of vulnerability stopped me from freaking her out tonight.

She hid her face in the crook of my neck as I carried us upstairs, just like she always did whenever we were going to bed - both to sleep and not at all. And then, after I’d put her down on the floor and reached for the edge of her dress, she stopped my movement with a gentle hold on my wrist.

“I-I’ve never done this before.” And it hurt. It hurt because she had, I’d been the one to take her virginity a few years ago. The memories from that time flashed before my eyes as I looked at the face of the woman I loved and saw another version of her, one that I’d yet to uncover. “But I really want to do this with you.”

Her words brought some comfort to my desperation. I leaned down to cover her lips with mine again, allowing my hands to roam all over her body and in seconds, her dress was on the floor.

“You’re so beautiful, darling.” She looked flushed, but if from the compliment, my heated gaze or her own desire, I couldn’t tell. And in that moment, I was taken by the realization that it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter that she couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter because it happened, and she was mine. She was mine back then and she was mine now. She had chosen to be with me right now, and I was gonna make the most out of this experience.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” I asked when she was completely naked and sprawled out on the bed before me. I was down to my pants too, and I got rid of those before I got down to my knees, desperate to have her taste on my lips again.

“Andy, that feels so good.” Shivers went down my spine at the feeling of her nails raking over my scalp before she managed to get a grip over my hair, pulling on it whenever I twirled my tongue around her clit.

“I’ll alway make you feel good, sweetheart.” My cock pulsed inside my boxers, and still all I wanted to do was lick her up, drown myself in her taste. I’d spent too long without her wetness, I needed to get it imprinted on my lips again.

She cried out when I filled her with two of my fingers, and I remembered she thought this was her first time. “You like this, darling?” After she nodded, I pressed on, “Does it hurt?” She shook her head, clearly unable to speak, and so I got back to the apex of her thighs, licking and sucking on her little nub until she was shaking underneath me.

“It’s alright, baby.” I always had to coax her orgasm for the first times we’d laid together, her being too inexperienced and unfamiliarized with the sensations coursing through her body. “I got you. Cum for me.”

I watched hypnotized as she threw her head back while she clenched around my fingers, and I felt tempted to climb up her body and mark that pretty little neck she had exposed with a hundred million love bites, but I didn’t. I didn’t want her to feel pressured, feel like my weight on top of hers was me hurrying her process just so I could fuck her.

But I didn’t need to worry, because as soon as her eyes were open again, she reached out for me. “Come,” she called, tiny hand grasping for mine. “Want you inside.” I’d always found adorable how she cut down her sentences when she was eager for me, and witnessing it again only added to the desire I felt for her.

I climbed up on the bed and reached out for her other hand, keeping both of hers clasped on mine as I fused us together. I’d almost forgotten how it felt to be inside of her. This connection… It went beyond the sexual, it felt spiritual.

I kept holding her hands as I started to fuck her, losing myself to the feeling of being this close together again. I buried my face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in, and I only let her go when she pried her hands away to claw at my back.

“Shit… Take my cock so well.” It was gentle, the way I thrusted in and out of her, easily finding that spot that had taken me a while to discover back when we started having sex. But it was also desperate - I was desperate. A part of me really believed I’d never get to have her like this again, never get to share this sort of intimacy with her, cherish her body, give her pleasure. 

But here we were.

“You like that, huh?” I couldn’t help but tease, hearing her passionate moans reverberating across our room. I already knew she did. I knew just what she liked. But when she moaned my name as a response, I almost lost it right then and there.

It was the best kind of torture. Being this close and still having to keep some part of me intact, remembering that she still hadn’t given every part of her in return. I didn’t want to hold back. I wanted everything with her, once again.

It didn’t take much to bring her to climax, and hers elicited mine, like she always did. When it was said and done, I made sure to cuddle her just like I knew she needed, especially considering this was the first time she remembered doing this.

“How was it?” I asked, kissing her temple as I caressed her skin, relaxed in the knowledge that I’d fall asleep hearing her heartbeat against my chest. “Did I manage to make it great for you?”

She pushed away from me just enough to meet my eyes and smiled. “It was perfect.” But once she readjusted herself against my chest, she still commented, “I thought it would hurt more.”

A bittersweet smile took over my features, but thankfully she couldn’t see it. In fact, I watched as she fell asleep on my arms, muttering an “I love you” that would probably still freak her out if she’d heard right now.

I couldn’t imagine a world where I wouldn’t get to share a bed with her anymore. So that night, for the first time in a while, I didn’t feel alone as I closed my eyes and followed her into Morpheu’s arms.


	5. Chapter 5

Waking up in Andy’s arms was like something out of a dream. Instead of feeling disappointed because I opened my eyes to reality - and therefore had to abandon whatever it was that had been entertaining me while asleep - all I could feel was excitement at being in his bed, surrounded by his scent and warmth.

He really was a dream come true to me .

I managed to turn around in his arms without waking him up, taking advantage of this opportunity to admire him. God, he was attractive. A bit more mature than I remembered from our first date, but I guess going through a coma can change your perspective on a lot of things, this included.

And I couldn’t believe he had stuck out with me during this entire medical situation. I think this would be hard even for people who were already in long term relationships, for someone who had literally just met me…

I just couldn’t believe it was really happening, outside of a movie screen, and to me. With someone as great as Andy. It felt like one of those sappy romantic stories, where a sad circumstance brings a couple even closer together, and I was so happy about it. Perhaps even too happy.

A part of me, the part that had been realistic due to everything I’d been through in life, kept asking me to slow down. Not to trust him too soon, not to fall in love despite his gentleness, his patience, everything he’d done for me ever since I woke up. And even though I’d blatantly disregarded that part - I was in love with him, and I knew it - it still existed inside of me, and it made me cautious of losing him suddenly, just like I’d lost everyone else in my life.

I didn’t want to have to live without Andy, but I knew love stories could only end two ways. There was a 50/50 chance for both paths.

As much as I wanted to lay there and think only of the optimistic happy ending I wish I would get to share with Andy, my body reminded me of my reality. I was starving, and if Andy didn’t wake up soon, the growls in my stomach would certainly be his alarm clock, and that just wouldn’t do. So I decided, albeit reluctantly, to leave him in bed and venture back to the main floor of the house, in search of something I could eat.

It was so hard to leave his room without waking him up - I didn’t know how deep his sleep could be, but I didn’t want to take any chances, considering how peaceful he looked. So when I finally managed to close his bedroom door and realized just how badly I needed to pee, I wanted to slap myself on the face, where it would leave a mark.

“Alright,” I thought to myself. “Big place. He’s gotta have another bathroom here somewhere.” And so began my quest for a toilet I could pee in. The first door I opened was obviously an office - it made sense he’d choose the room nearest to his to work on. The second one looked like a guest room, if the lack of personal decorations was any indication of the absence of any current occupants. The third door I tried seemed to be locked, since I wasn’t able to turn the knob all the way to one side. But the fourth one is a charm, right?

I noticed I was wrong before my brain processed what it was that I was seeing, purely from the scent that the room exhaled. It was unmistakably baby powder and that newborn smell that was so peculiar it seemed to be able to make any woman who sniffed it feel fertile in a second.

But then my eyes got used to the low lighting of the bedroom and I noticed the crib. I noticed the decorations on the wall. And I noticed the child on the lap of a woman sat by the window, seemingly as surprised to see me as I was to see her. 

“Oh, I didn’t think anyone would be joining us today,” she said, sitting up straighter as the little boy sucked on a bottle of milk. He couldn’t be older than… what? Three or four months? “Andy said he’d be coming home late and not to expect any visits until way past lunchtime.”

At the mention of the man whose bed I’d just left, I felt as if a bucket of ice had been dropped on me, and I had to hold onto the door so I would keep myself up as my body startled to tremble.

“He… did?” I asked, not in search of any particular confirmation, but just to keep the woman talking so I could have something to focus on instead of the feeling that I was about to faint.

“Yeah, he was excited about it, weren’t you, little one?” She asked the tiny baby, obviously fond of the boy. “Truth be told, he hasn’t been spending much time with his father, and a baby misses that, you know?”

I did know. I did know, but I didn’t have anything to offer in response, so I excused myself from the conversation and closed the door behind me, mind empty but running aimlessly at the same time.

I was still frozen with shock by the time Andy found me in the kitchen, staring emptily at the wall. “I’m so glad you’re here, sweetheart. I’m so hungry, but the only thing in this kitchen that seems to make my mouth water is you.”

His words didn’t even register in my head as I raised my eyes to meet his, my tone cold and devoid of any emotions when I asked, “When were you going to tell me that you have a son?”


	6. Chapter 6

“No, don’t touch me,” she exploded, jumping away from me as soon as I approached the seat she was on, trying to figure out what to do or say. I could understand her demand. I knew she was naked under that shirt of mine that she was wearing, and it couldn’t be comfortable to sort through her feelings practically bare in front of the person who’d broken her trust.

“Alright,” I tried to calm her down, taking a step back and raising my hands so she’d see I wouldn't try to touch her anymore. “Alright. Can you just… Will you just hear me out? I know I don’t deserve it, but please.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, her lips etched into a scowl, but I could see the hurt in her eyes. She looked hauntingly beautiful staring at me with both anger and pain. Finally, after what felt like years, she nodded but didn’t look any more approachable than she had been before my request.

“Would you like to sit with me on the couch? So we can talk?” I made sure to phrase my request as loosely as possible, knowing she never enjoyed being told what to do. In such a situation, it was only expected she would rebel against any of my orders. 

I watched her eye the seat I was pointing at, and after a few seconds of pondering, she nodded, at last, promptly turning her back to me and assuming a position against one of the armrests, as far away from me as possible.

Fair enough. I could work with that.

I took a seat at the other end of the couch, determined to show her that I was going to do whatever it took to have her feel as comfortable as possible with me. “I’m sorry that you had to find out this way,” I started, licking my lips in nervousness as I tried to figure out where to take this. “Believe me, I wish there had been another opportunity to tell you everything before you figured it out for yourself… like this.”

She didn’t make any movement to add something to my words, or even to show that she understood where I was coming from, her face a blank canvas of inexpression. It made me feel guilty, it made me nervous.

I was used to arguing for a living, but right then, staring at the woman I loved, I had no words. “I-I hope the time we’ve spent together has earned me at least the benefit of the doubt,” I found myself saying, and I knew it was stupid even before she raised an eyebrow. She looked at me like she didn’t know me, and it hurt.

All this time, as hard as it was to live through this partial amnesia, she still recognized me. And even if she didn’t know my place in her life, she never looked at me like I was capable of something evil, like I’d done something wrong.

“I don’t know why you think you deserve that,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, and even so, I felt like I was being punched to the stomach. “I can’t trust you, Andy. I don’t know what else you could be hiding! Do you have a wife? Am I some sort of occupational hazard to you? The sad little girl who got in a car accident... If you didn’t share something this big about you… How can you think you’d deserve anything other than my doubt?”

God, she was good. I’d forgotten just how terrible it was to fight with her, considering how intelligent she could be with her own arguments and how jumbled up my sentiments could become when it came to her. “I just… How can I trust you after something like this?”

It hurt that this is what she thought of me, but I couldn’t really blame her. She didn’t know me anymore, and the irony of the situation wasn’t lost to me at all. This was my old, familiar fear, laid out before my eyes, and I had no one else to blame but myself.

It was so difficult to think rationally about a woman I loved so much, and especially now that there were so many emotions coursing through my body. Tears rose in my eyes, and I hated myself for crying in front of her, not because I was scared of looking weak, but because I didn’t want her to think that I was trying to manipulate her with this show of vulnerability.

I truly was vulnerable. In all honesty, I was terrified. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. Not again. Not like this.

“Do you have any idea what you mean to me?” I stuttered, words barely understandable in between my sobs. God, I wanted to tell her. I was dying to. I wanted to tell her everything. It was the only way I could think of to have her believing in me again.

But how could I tell her that the baby was hers?

So instead of trying to delay the inevitable, I reached out to her and embraced her body to mine, knowing she’d hate me even more for it, but accepting that it was what I needed. Our lives were so entwined, even after the accident, I didn’t know what would become of me now that this had happened. I could feel my heart breaking just by imagining these next few days without her.

I knew it was what she’d need, though. I would give her the space she needed to figure out how she felt about me after such a discovery. But first I needed to feel her body next to mine once more.

Thankfully, she allowed me to have that.

I was scared, so I closed my eyes before I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. It didn’t matter how good it felt to be around her if she couldn’t stand to look me in the eye again. And although I’d keep clinging to the hopes of her remembering me and our story, I knew tonight I’d be going to bed alone and think about her instead of falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter left!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, everyone. Thanks for sticking out and reading this very angsty whirlwind of a fic, I hope it was worth it.

Andy’s P.O.V.

“Hi, someone called me and said I had to get to the hospital. Did something happen? Is my wife okay?” The woman behind the counter smiled patiently at me, but it was a trained smile. I didn’t have the time or the patience for that.

“Calm down, sir. Tell me your wife’s name and then I can direct you to the doctor or her room.” The scene reminded me too much of my first arrival, the one where I was certain I would be told I’d lost everything. It was impossible to stop the anxiety from rising, and I could feel it, climbing my throat and threatening to suffocate me, as I spilled my last name to her.

I tried not to lose it as she checked a few documents with all the calm in this world, like nothing of importance was happening, like my heart wasn’t beating out of control. After what felt like too long, she finally addressed me again.

“There’s no indication of Mrs. Barber’s doctor asking for you… And the nurse who’s taking care of her is on her day off.” I blinked a few times, trying to process her words and failing.

“What does that mean?” I hated the way she looked at me, with pity and understanding. I was tired of being seen like that, a broken man with a broken wife amidst the shattered pieces of what used to be my life.

“It means your wife isn’t going through any serious risk. I’ll try to get in touch with Nurse Jane and see what that call was about. In the meantime, would you like to see Mrs. Barber?” That was a difficult question. Of course I did want to see her, that wasn’t the hard part about it. The problem was… should I?

She never tried to reach out ever since I drove her back to this hospital that morning, almost a week ago. I managed to get some answers about how she was thanks to said Nurse Jane and her doctor, but I didn’t try to talk to her ever since.

I didn’t know what to say. I knew what I wanted to say, of course. The entire truth. I wanted to teach her about the beautiful love story she’d starred by my side, but most of all, I wanted her to believe in me.

And I didn’t think that was possible with the way things were left between us.

I’d barely slept ever since that morning. The good thing about giving her some distance was that I was able to spend some time with our son, something I’d failed to do ever since his birth.

It wasn’t his fault, but he was born from the same accident that almost took his mother’s life. I couldn’t look at him and not think of her. I couldn’t look at him and not remember how wrong everything was, and how much worse it could have been.

But now he was all I had. And I feared this was what my life would be like, if Y/N never decided to give me another chance. So I decided to face my own trauma instead of running from it.

Today was the first time since Y/N left that I had to call the nanny to take care of him again. I spent the last five days with him at all times, trying to learn how to be a parent, trying to feel close to someone I’d decided to shut off before even giving a chance.

He didn’t deserve this father who wasn’t there. That wasn’t the father I wanted to be, anyway. And so I focused on giving him all I had - all of my attention, all of my care, all of my love. I had nothing but time, and I had a lot of it to compensate for.

To be honest, the part of me that still believed Y/N would recover her memory kept reminding me that she would never forgive me for those months of parental bonding I missed. But it wasn’t my fault either.

It didn’t feel right to cherish our son when she wasn’t able to do the same.

“Mr. Barber?” The voice of the nurse from before broke me out of my thoughts, and I blinked a few times in an effort to fully concentrate in the present again. “Would you like to see her?”

Despite everything, I knew the answer I would give.

“Yes.” Of course. “Yes, I want to see her.”

I followed the dutiful nurse down the path I knew all too well, not having it in me to explain to her how her guidance wasn’t necessary. I roamed these halls every night in my sleep and every morning until she left my house. I feared their white apathy would be ingrained in my brain cells for the rest of my life.

“There you go. I’ll leave you two alone.” It was silent when I joined her in the room she’d been living in ever since she got out of the coma. And still, she didn’t seem to hear my arrival - not the door opening and closing behind her, not the sound of my steps resonating through the almost empty room. She looked hypnotized by nothing at all, hand absentmindedly playing with her necklace as she stared at the wall.

“Hey.” The word startled her, and her head whipped around to look at me, her eyes wide, but with no trace of anger.

“Andy?” I couldn’t figure out why, but the way she said my name sent shivers down my spine. She’d said it before, ever since she woke up - countless times. She said it in bed that night, and it still didn’t seem this sweet.

Perhaps the absence had made me more appreciative of it.

“Yeah.” I was scared of moving any closer to her, or saying anything that might provoke her anger. I knew she had the time to think about what had happened, but I had no idea how she felt about it all now. 

“I don’t mean to impose, I just… Someone from the hospital called me, I thought maybe something had happened to you. I’m glad you’re alright.” She nodded, a small smile on her face as silence fell between us again.

I’d grown to loathe the absence of sound in the time after the accident. At first, it was from the need to hear the beeps that reminded me she was alive. Then it was for its power to feed into my deepest fears and anxieties, my desperate concern of possibly losing her. And now, it was from the expectation that suspicion had become reality - she really didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.

“I can leave, if you want,” I offered, silently praying she wouldn’t take me up on it even as I waved towards the door. Much to my delight and surprise, her eyes widened and she reached out for my hand, as if stopping me from moving.

“No! No, don’t go.” And so we stood there, staring at each other, not knowing what to do until she asked, “Would you like to sit?”

I followed her to the small sofa in the room, still confused about what was happening. Each second that went by highlighted the differences in our situation, but I still couldn’t see it clearly. 

Just what was going on here?

She still held my hand as we sat next to each other, absentmindedly stroking it, her gaze on our laps. It felt just familiar enough to have hope rekindling inside my heart, burning bright inside of it to illuminate my entire being.

“Y/N…” I started, and when her eyes met mine, I unconsciously licked my lips in an effort to keep talking. “Were you the one who called for me?” In the time that she took to answer, the truth was already there, staring back at me. Her hands played with the necklace and when a smile began to form, I threw my arms around her, pulling her to my lap. 

“Oh my God.” She giggled against the crook of my neck, and it was like my heart stopped and I started living again, somehow. “It’s you,” I commented, cradling her face so I could look her in the eye. “It’s really you.”

My voice was so thick with emotion I could barely recognize it, but it didn’t take long until words were replaced by the language of desperate kisses, her hands fisting my shirt as I buried my fingers on her locks.

“What… How much do you remember?” I had to ask when I finally accepted that I needed to let us breathe, leaving her lips to rub our noses together delicately, our foreheadheads glued as I struggled not to lose control.

“There are still gaps,” she confessed, seemingly as unwilling to part from me as I was. “But I remember enough. I know you’re my husband and I know that was our son, and I want to go home, Andy. Please, take me home.”

And there it was, the feeling of wholeness, the lack of craving I never thought I’d have again. It was impossible to keep myself from crying then, but as my shirt became soaked, I knew I wasn’t the only one battling with emotions and dealing with them in the form of tears.

“Of course, darling. Let’s go home.” And running my hand over her cheek, brushing her tears away, I invited, “Let’s go meet our son.”


End file.
